Losing Gasoline
by simplegirl42
Summary: He brought her to him, to cease her escape, and shook her slightly and whispered menacingly into her ear. "Oh no, Sweet-Cheeks. You have to finish what you started." *Joker/OC* R&R


**Well this a little one-shot on the Joker and a hostage. This story came to me from the song "Fire Bomb" by Rihanna. When I first heard it I thought of the Joker, because he likes explosives so I listened to the lyrics more and this is what I came up with. Hope you like it and I suggest listening to the song if you never heard it before while reading the story. :)**

**Losing Gasoline**

She woke in a huff, uncovering her head from the pillow that suffocated her in her sleep. The room was bare, and she settled back down, calming herself. She felt hopeless, pitiful, and empty. She no longer had a desire to live. For her, it was too difficult to live with these two very different sides of herself. She knew who she was… yet could not find a name to call herself to describe her change in behavior. She blamed him. He was the cause of why she could no longer live with herself. He twisted her; molded her; broke her into something she never thought she would become. Someone she did not recognize in the mirror. Yet, apart from her behavior, that she could not comprehend, she loved every moment with him. The man who broke her, who threatened her life every day for the past year, had taken the free space right in her heart.

She never wanted to fall in love with this man; a monster everyone saw him as being… and they were right. The man she loved was a monster. He slaughtered people for laughs, feeding his blood lust and created chaos through his antics of little games he like to play on the citizens. He caused Gotham to run wild and put every other villain to shame.

This man could not be bought, bargain with, nor reasoned with. It was his city that he held in his hands. He would take her out of their stuffed-up old room to the roof of his secret warehouse and witness the mayhem he created. It had shocked her to the core the first time, she witness a bomb go off across the city and see the smoke fill the air. She remembered hearing him laugh with excitement and then calming down into silence. He would watch the flames lick up the burning building that he blew up with concentration and in deep thought. She had started crying then, it was her first time, seeing a bomb go off and she felt helpless as she watched the building go down. He had simply looked over at her and sickly smiled at her with his red stained lips, amusement flicking in his eyes. He loved to see her suffer.

The man, she had come to love, was sadistic and he certainly enjoyed having her. That is what he had said after all, the first time he took her completely. She was so devastated to have lost it to a madman. She hardly moved from her position on the bed for a few days, just wallowing in her own sorrow. He had only chuckled, and assaulted her some more.

She glanced at all the holes in the wall, made by his fists, and took note of the ripped wallpaper hanging off the wall as well as the faded stain of blood smeared on the walls. She lightly walked around the room taking it all in. The bed was unmade as it always was. He was never the one for neatness nor the one who liked sheets covering him when he was sleeping. She kept her face well composed, feeling calm and at peace with herself, as she ran her hand over the dresser they kept in their room that was a chipped dark wooden dresser with four drawers. She swiftly and gracefully left their room, having access to more rooms in the warehouse, because she had learned to obey him.

He had granted her this freedom after time and after many deathly and painful threats given to her if she happened to decide to run away. But it's not like she could run away from him, it was no longer an option for her. She had nowhere to go and she didn't want to leave him.

She stepped lightly on the stairs when walking down them having passed by the multiple hallways. The warehouse was big and shitty. It really was a dump. She stood in the middle of the warehouse where he and his henchmen kept three couches, a TV set, a pool table, poker table, a large wooden table, along with an empty space to move around. She observed every little detail of the room, taking in all the dirt, filth, and grime, knowing everything will look entirely different in just a few minutes.

There was no one here today at the warehouse, except for him. She knew, because of the light on in his office behind the closed blinds upstairs across from the ones she descended upon. She looked up with contempt yet a longing to go near him, but she knew the consequences she would receive if she were to disturb him. Looking sadly down, she felt disgusted with herself and frustrated. She reminded herself it was going to change. She will be free. She would free her soul from him.

Becoming calm again, she left to the kitchen entry that was downstairs. She took what she needed from the cupboard below the sink and the drawer beside the stove. She headed back to the living room. The contents from the jug she took from under the sink were spread all around the room. The fluids had no affect on her, because she was so use to the smell of gasoline. It was one of the many smells that clung to him. She looked solemnly up at his office one last time, half expecting him to come bargaining out of his office to scold her in the most harmful way possible.

She sat on the couch at last, having thrown the empty jug of gasoline carelessly beside her. She took out the matches she had stole from the kitchen as well, and resound fully watched as she lit the match. She stared at the flame hypnotized, until the flame about reached her fingertips and then she threw it in front of her. The gasoline caught fire instantly and she watched as it burned in front of her.

It didn't take long for him to come running out of his office, clearly able to recognize the smell of fire. He examined the scene, his eyes stopping at her, the cause. She sat there watching the flames come more alive and wild, burning quickly.

The man she loved cussed and quickly shuffled down the stairs. Upon the movement, she spotted him and became immediately frightened. He glowered at her as he came nearer to her, walking quickly through the small flame that blocked his pathway to her. She stood up, wanting to run by instinct, but before she could, he was able to grip her arm firmly.

He brought her to him, to cease her escape, and shook her slightly and whispered menacingly into her ear. "Oh no, Sweet Cheeks. You have to finish what you started."

He pulled her after him as he walked up and jumped off the couch. She was scared at what he meant but did not fight him. He brought her near to the back door of the kitchen before he stopped where he was at and turned around. He grabbed her hand, looking so intensely at her it made her skin crawl, but she couldn't look away. He placed a gun in her hand. She gasped and looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Shoot it," he demanded, indicating with his hand at the two tanks of gasoline sitting in the corner of the room. She mildly shook her head afraid where this was going. His eyes narrowed and he slipped his knife out of his pocket and held it to her throat, his grip on her tight.

"I told you you're finishing this, now shoot it."

With a slight nod, she aimed with shaky hands, her chin still firmly grasped by the man with the knife at her neck. The bullets hit the tanks, leaving holes, and losing gasoline. Most pleased with her, he withdrew the blade from her neck, only to pull from his pocket a lighter.

"Do it," He dared her, his eyes dark and searching her face. She took the lighter meekly, and flickered the fire on, yet she couldn't find it in herself to throw it. With impatience, he took it roughly from her and flicked the fire back on and threw it at the tanks.

As the fire hit the tanks, she heard his insane laughter that scars the memory in the brain forever, and they went flying through the air with everything else.

Her hearing went silent for a while, until she heard the flicks of flames in the background. Her head was pounding unbearably and felt the stickiness of blood coming from her head onto her hand as she touched the wound. She slowly got up, observing her surroundings. She was outside; the whole warehouse was burning down and the explosion had only destroyed a good side of it. She saw no sight of him, and relaxed as she contently continued to watch the flames engulf the warehouse, thinking he had gone, burning down in the explosion. She leaned back on her hands, touching accidently a cool surface. Looking down, she realized it to be the gun that he had placed in her hands before the explosion. She took it in her hands, holding it carefully, and breathing slowly.

If he was gone without her, this would be her only memory of him. Although, holding this weapon only made her remember what she regretted most. With him even gone, she would still be sent to prison for what she did. She had gone against her own values and killed someone. Sure, the person was not innocent himself, but it was still immoral and she couldn't handle how easy it was for a life to slip away how easy it was to end it all with a trail of blood behind. However, this time… she killed leaving a trail of fire as she watched the burning warehouse that she was held hostage at for a year.

The chaos in her head was settled until she heard an obnoxious sound of a horn honking, turning around, she felt disappointed. He could have been part of a masterpiece, yet he was in the driver seat of a van, honking at her. He held a gun in his hand, pointing it at her and then pointed it to the passenger seat beside him. His eyes were solely focused on her and she got up wary, slipping the gun behind her, and walked slowly over the rumble from the explosion to the van.

She got in and he smirked, his green-dyed blond hair was wildly scrawled on top his head and his purple outfit was littered in dust and dirt. He laughed as he put the van in drive and he raced out of the neighborhood and through the streets, laughing psychotically. His driving was unbelievably fast as he sped past, and cut off, almost every driver on the road at four in the morning.

"Didn't think you had it in you, Doll-Face, to pull a stunt like that," he retorted as he laughed as he rolled down all the windows in the van to feel how fast their going.

She couldn't respond for the life of her. She found him to dangerously exotic and took in who he was in this moment. A voice from the radio was on in the background, it was a police report.

"Breaking News, the Joker's hideout has been exposed and found to be on fire from causes of gasoline that caught fire. It has been reported that the fire was intentional. There are no dead bodies on the scene, so the attempt of killing the Joker was not successful. It is to be assumed, he is moving to a new hideout in the city. Anyone with any information on the Joker's location should step up immediately…"

The voice on the radio drowned in her ears…

She had one last chance didn't she? She looked over at the claimed "Prince of Crime", the Joker, and looked out the windshield to the lit up street of the night. She shut her eyes for only a moment to find within herself the clarity she need as well as the courage to do what she must.

Suddenly the van was hit by something from behind, making the Joker and her jerk forward due to the lack of seatbelts the van did not have.. The Joker cursed, still driving, but stuck his head out the window to see who bumped his car from behind. The Joker spied the slick black tank car to be that of Batman's. Batman aimed a target gun weapon from his car at the Joker locking in and firing.

The Joker moved his head back inside the van in just enough time to avoid getting hit, but the bullet hit the side rear-view mirror taking it out. The Joker muttered incoherent things about Batman and said something like "it's time to play," as he took out a huge gun from the back street. He was barely paying attention to the road and swerved passed a car he barely missed. He muttered curses again and spoke to her, commandingly.

"Take the hell. I got some Bat to fry," the Joker chuckled amused as he shifted half of his body out the window.

She took control over the steering wheel like he asked, shifting closer over to the driver's seat and took glances at the Joker, seeing he was about to fire.

It was now of never, she thought as she prayed in silently in her head as she sharply turned the car to the left near an intersection. The turn wasn't sharp enough, leading them straight to the building; she figured they would end their life together from this impacted.

She heard him yell at the top of his lungs at her and swiftly saw where they were headed. Thinking fast was always one of his many traits he had as he reached in and turned the steering wheel farthest left as possible. The force he exerted on the wheel was enough to make the van slam into the building on its back end side. The impact shook them hard.

"What are you, crazy?" the Joker shouted at her, he received minimal of injuries while she had received a greater few to go along with the other ones. "I could have had him."

The Joker dragged her weak body out of the van, pulling his knife out, placing it at her throat. The blade hardly scared her anymore. This was her second attempt at trying to end it and none of it worked. Before the Joker could do damage, he was ripped off of her by Batman.

The two enemies had a dual, Batman clearly holding back, because of his rules and every punch Joker got he crackled at saying it tickled. The Joker mocked the Batman for his rules; he tried to make Batman see the twisted logic he had used on her. She couldn't stand by and watch another person be broken by his hands and molded to his liking. She heard the sirens not far in the distance, they be here in 3 minutes tops.

She stood up, with the little strength she had, and took a rock from the ground and threw it at the Joker, her lover. The Joker turned his head around, stopping in his tracks, and looked at her amusedly, but his eyes were tight and narrowed. She quietly stood her ground. Batman watched carefully as the Joker walked from him to her with his back never being turned. Once he was close to her, he took her into his arms and gripped her neck.

"Got something to say, Darlin'?" the Joker drawled tauntingly as his eyes glanced back to Batman who still laid on the ground clutching the knife wound on his side.

She looked at him and he stared back at her. She saw the deep inner desire he had for her in his eyes but she knew this wasn't who she was. She nodded her head and the Joker narrowed his eyes even more, daring her.

She whipped out the gun he had given her earlier at the warehouse from her back pocket and placed it under his chin. The Joker gave a chuckle at her behavior and the hard, detached look in her eyes. Her face was blank, however, which had always caught his appeal from the beginning.

He kidnapped her a year ago for one of his hostages' videos to get Batman to revel himself. She was among the many, he had kidnapped that day, but her spirit had caught his interest. She became way too entertaining to kill. She was so quiet and detached and stubborn that he wanted to see what would make her tick and he wanted to see how long till he could break her. What surprised him most about her though, was that once he did break her, he was still amused and entertained by her. It wasn't often when he gets so much fun out of a person, besides the old Batsy he has encounters with.

The Joker smiled at her madly, enhancing his scars; it hardly fazed her. She took her last moment taking him in. "It's time we go out blazing, Jack," she softly said, her voice cracking from lack of use, as she lift herself up on her tie-toes and kissed him. The blade was pressed harder at her neck, she felt the blood run down her chest. The Joker hummed slightly in a pleasured sigh, but she didn't focus on him as she heard the sirens coming closer. It was time, she was afraid.

She pulled back the gun from his neck, and turned her wrist. She pulled the trigger and everything went black. Her soul was set free from his grasp, although; the Joker had gotten her mind, body and, heart.

**I hope I didn't screw up the Joker in this. I'm testing the waters out on writing Batman fics, because I don't want to make the Joker unlike himself. Now I know in this story, his dialogue is a little funny and probably doesn't sound like him and I'm sorry. I tried my best. Tell me what you think of the story and if I'm any good at Batman fics or not haha. I don't mind helpful criticism**

**Review Please :)**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Batman or Joker or the song "Fire Bomb" by Rihanna that this story is referencing.**


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